


Alchemical Recipes for Disaster

by ead13



Series: Reactants [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anniversary gift for Fjori, Gen, I did my homework to make this lore-friendly, Quintus wrote a book, he's such a dork and Fjori and I love him, in the style of in-game books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-02 21:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ead13/pseuds/ead13
Summary: A Compendium of Creature-Based Ingredients and How to Safely Obtain ThemQuintus has repaired the White Phial, devised a resist disease potion, successfully reintroduced the yellow mountain flower, and now...he's a published author. Here is the book that he wrote about creature-based ingredients, alongside stories he transcribed from Fjori regarding their collection. He doesn't particularly care if it gets read by the world at large, because what really matters is that this anniversary gift to his warrior wife hits the bullseye.Designed to read like the lore books found in-game until the very last chapter.





	1. Preface

Preface:

I will be the first to admit that from the time I was a child, plants held a certain fascination for me. Each different leaf, bloom, and root hold a plethora of attributes that when isolated through alchemy, can create the most amazing effects. Even when just a boy, I could study them in their abundance and variety, and do so without any risk to my safety (being intelligent enough to know not to blindly eat them, naturally). Perhaps the family garden and local woods are the starting place for any alchemist, not just myself. 

My travels to Skyrim pushed me past my comfort zone and gave me the chance to focus on more wild ingredients that can only be obtained from dangerous creatures, especially as I fell into companionship and ultimately marriage with my wife, Fjori Dragon-Bane. She is an adventurer and mercenary by trade, you see, and goes to the places I would never dare. That explains my newfound interest in these ingredients, but not the writing of this tome.

Fjori is an excellent story-teller, and a member of the Bard's College of Solitude. She makes a rapt audience of anyone with her tales, even a boring academic like myself. Any time she brings me something rare from a deadly creature, I am also gifted with a vibrant telling of how she came to possess the item in question. It truly made me wonder if there could be a sort of collaboration between our two worlds, that of the alchemist and that of the adventurer. This compendium is my effort to explore that union, specifically to share with my fellow academics the colorful experiences of those who provide you with your materials. Fjori may not have taken up the pen in the creating of this work, but I will recount her stories alongside my scholarly observations, faithful to every detail as she would tell it. 

Perhaps in the end this is all just a self-indulgent endeavor, but even if it is, I have strived to create an accurate, practical text that will serve both adventurer and alchemist, if not bridge the gap between them.

-Quintus Navale

Disclaimer: Remember, do not try to gather these ingredients unless you are a trained professional!


	2. Bear Claws

I swear, you can’t go a stone’s throw in Falkreath or the Rift without hitting a bear. At least out on the tundra it’s more like three stone’s throws. They’re usually territorial and won’t bother you unless you bother them first, which I can definitely respect. I don’t go out of my way looking for them, even if their pelts are worth a decent amount of coin, and they don’t attack me, sparing me bone-break fever and allowing me to save my restore health potions on a long journey. Win-win situation, really. So, why do I have a pouch overflowing with bear claws? They made my client very angry.

There’s a woman who runs a lumber mill over in Ivarstead, and in her neck of the woods the bears are running rampant. Apparently they keep scratching up all the good trees she wants to harvest, ruining them in the process of marking their territory. Regrettably for bears, a bounty was a bounty, and she wanted ten of their hides as proof of the kill.

It wasn’t hard to track down that quantity. There are caves on either side of Ivarstead that serve as bear dens, with multiple beasts sharing the lairs. My client should have probably considered that when choosing where to log… Killing them, however, is not to be taken lightly even if they tend to be passive in normal situations. Every Nord knows that a bear defending its home is a most fearsome opponent, and every Nord child compares their mother’s wrath to that of the bear. Outside and inside the dens, I saw the remains of hunters who were not prepared, wielding flimsy longbows and pitiful daggers. Seriously, didn’t they realize those daggers would never pierce the thick fur and fat of their prey, even if they risked getting that close?

You can possibly take on a bear single-handedly as long as it remains a one-on-one fight and you are well equipped, but storming a den alone is not advisable. I of course had Lydia* to help, and she played her part admirably. She stood against the bears with her shield, drawing their attention, deflecting their swipes and lunges, and occasionally bashing them on their sensitive noses to stun them. Meanwhile, I circled around the back and put my axe to work. It takes a strong arm and a sharpened blade to pierce those pelts, but you know I’m up for the task. 

When all was said and done, we skinned our kills, gave those poor sods a proper burial with prayers offered up to Kyne…I mean, Kynareth…and maybe borrowed a few things the deceased weren’t going to need anymore. …Hey, don’t look at me like that, it’s not like I drank their mead or stole their jewelry! I even left them wrapped in some of the pelts from their successful hunts! It’s just that dead people don’t need septims, you know?

Turns out, I’m the one that needed the septims. All I got for bringing in the ten pelts was an old iron sword. I could have sold those pelts for more money than what the sword was worth! Well, at least I thought to harvest the claws for you. You can do something with those, right?

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

It’s never a bad thing to have an abundance of bear claws, seeing as they retain their alchemical potential indefinitely after being taken from the bear. Also, it takes about twelve individual claws to produce a potent effect. In other words, for all the work of killing a single bear, you’d only get one potion from it! This is clearly not the most efficient way to create restore stamina potions. For the warrior, however, the bear claws are an optimal ingredient that when mixed with small pearls or blue mountain flowers yield multiple beneficial effects for combat (with the common benefit being fortify one-handed). How fitting that the bear’s primary weapon will bolster yours!

We are still unsure why the claws are the sole source of alchemical potential in the bear, whereas other predator animals like the sabrecat have uses for their teeth and eyes. Bears do come with a side benefit though: their dens are often littered with the remains of beehive husks and honeycombs, two other ingredients with some uncommon properties. If you or your hired help went through all the trouble of killing the bear, you may as well look around for these other goods. Be sure to remind the hired help of this before dispatching them.

If you plan on working with the claws, be certain not to crush them until you are ready to use them, as it makes the quantities far easier to measure and prevents diffusion of alchemical potential. It would be a shame to waste all the effort of killing the bear!

 

*Author's Note: Lydia is Fjori's housecarl, and will be referenced in Fjori's tales with great frequency.


	3. Briar Hearts

Hey, I saved you the briarhearts I collected from my last trip out to the Reach. I remember how excited you were to see one the last time I had one to show you, and how helpful it was in your research. Something about that ancient magic the hagravens use that no one else can recreate these days. You should know it still makes me a bit squeamish pulling them out of those Briarheart warriors’ chests, and I’ve seen my fair share of guts and gore. Maybe because it still feels like it is beating even after they are dead? Ugh…

I’ve got to tell you though, as weird and creepy as I knew these things were, it got even weirder and creepier this time around. I’m still debating whether this story will fascinate you, appealing to the scholar in you, or disgust you, going against your refined Imperial tastes. …Eh, I’m going to tell you anyways, if for no other reason than to see the look on your face!

So, we find this hidden valley (which I’m fairly certain is called Lost Valley Redoubt) tucked away near the border of Falkreath. It’s got a gigantic Forsworn settlement hidden in the levels upon levels of ruins built into the mountain, and sneaking in with all their strategic vantages points was a hopeless cause. Nothing to do but make the charge with Lydia right behind me, carving a path of carnage in our wake and dodging the rain of arrows from their archers.

The crazy part happened when we neared the very top, having cleared out the entire rest of the camp. I could feel the presence of a word wall, which we approached. Except, there was a pair of hagravens in front of it. And also the dead body of one of their warriors on a ritual altar. Instead of attacking, I actually held back for once, wondering what they were chanting over the body. I thought perhaps it would be educational if I listened, and boy it certainly was! Something about “Heart of thorn, bones of the wild, in life Forsworn…” I swear I’m not making this up, the body CAME BACK TO LIFE as they finished chanting! When he sat up on the altar, I noticed the fresh briarheart in his chest. The hagravens kill people, do the transplant, and then resurrect them! There was no more time to delay.

It was a hard fought battle; a fight with hagravens is never an easy one, and they had their newly-formed Briarheart warrior helping. These abominations are stronger than a regular Forsworn, and now I guess I know why. Whatever spells they use in the ritual are tied to that plant-thing in their chests, and it gives the warriors’ magic an edge, their arms strength. One problem with having an exposed heart, though: it makes a great target. When I landed a blow to the heart, it seemed to do more damage, even staggering him. And when my second blow dislodged the entire thing from his chest cavity, he fell over, instantly killed. Again, that is. Good to know the next time I meet one of these guys. Honestly though, if they are going to go through all that work to transplant a better heart, wouldn’t they do a better job sealing it in place? Maybe cover it with something? Not that I’m complaining, of course.

So, yeah, even though the guy was definitely dead, the briar heart still seemed…alive somehow. Do you think they could reuse it and stick it into someone else’s chest cavity? …Ha, you look pretty grossed out! Don’t worry, I know you; I made sure to wash off all the blood before packaging it up. 

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The briar heart presents one of the greatest mysteries in both the realms of magic and alchemy, though to be fair there is no mystery for the hagravens that produce them. I will not go into detail regarding the theory of their origins; there are other, excellent texts on the subject, particularly those of the Telvanni wizard Neloth. The only reason origin concerns me for this text is the problem of how to classify them. Neloth refers to the briar heart as ‘a seed’, implying plant-like characteristics; that would render it inapplicable to the topic presented in this tome. However, if planted like any other seed, it does not grow or produce more. First person documents from the Bangkorai region in the 2nd era describe the necessity of planting the briar hearts inside corpses and watering the seedlings with blood, lending a sinister and decidedly creature aspect to them. No matter how one views them, the fact that our only available source of briar hearts is the chests of the Briarheart warriors, they have been included here.

Unless you leave in the Reach where the Forsworn run rampant, it will be quite difficult to come by this ingredient. That may not be as much of an inconvenience as you think; outside of magical crafting and rituals, the alchemical properties of a briar heart are nothing that you can’t obtain from other, more common ingredients. Your best bet if you intend to brew potions with a briar heart is to mix it with some swamp fungal pods, canis roots, or imp stools to create a very valuable paralysis potion (for completely legitimate uses, I should hope). Another good combination would be to mix it with red mountain flowers, therefore both restoring and fortifying magicka. This is not surprising given the boost in magic the briar heart gives its vessels…

By all means, keep this one as a trophy for your collection of oddities. Should you wish to use it, however, do so quickly. A briar heart separated from its life force, whether human or earth, will not retain its potency long. If push comes to shove, bury it in a pot of dirt to slightly extend its potency. I have not personally experimented with watering it with blood to preserve it, and have no intention of ever doing such a thing. For something with such plant-like qualities, it’s a wonder I don’t have more of an interest!


	4. Charred Skeever Hide & Skeever Tail

What am I working on? You know how I go through cure disease potions, so I thought I’d make a bunch while I have all these skeever parts. …Yes, I know that’s a lot of skeevers, and no, I didn’t clean out the Riften sewers! Actually, this encounter was super unexpected, and definitely not where you would think. Get this.

I was out visiting Rorikstead on my way to Skyhaven when Jouane stopped me and asked me to check up on one of the local villagers. The man hadn’t been seen in a few days, and the people wanted to make sure he was all right. Lived just up the ridge in a cottage right outside the village. You know me, I’m a sucker for helping people, so Lydia and I went up there to see what was going on.

Right as we turn the corner on the slope up to his house, a skeever launches itself at my face. Just between you and me (and Lydia, I suppose), I screamed, more in shock than anything. The vermin don’t have too strong of a bite after all, they just carry the Ataxia and who knows what other plagues of Peryite. In typical skeever fashion, there was a whole mob of them, so even after I hacked up the bugger that attacked me, at least three more came at us. Luckily Lydia had me covered while I got my wits about me. When all were put to rest, we got to wondering why in the world a bunch of skeevers took up residence right outside this man’s hut. That did not bode well.

Before opening the door, I put my ear against it. I could make out scurrying sounds from the inside. No way! In there too? With my sword drawn and at the ready, I flung the door open and confronted another three skeevers before finally acknowledging that the scene was clear. That was when we noticed the man lying dead on his bed. Other than being dead, he didn’t look too beat up. If the skeevers had gotten him, you’d have thought there’d be more bite marks or something…

Now, here’s the kicker: when we searched the hut for more clues, we found several bowls laid out in a neat line before the fireplace, each with a bit of meat. You can’t make this stuff up! There’s no way of knowing for sure, but we think he may have actually kept all those skeevers as pets! I mean, I guess he wouldn’t be the first; Corpulus Vinius over at the Winking Skeever in Solitude mentioned he named his inn as such because of the pet skeever he kept as a child. Then again, he also said they were smaller. Hopefully less mangy…

In the end, we both agreed it was probably the half-empty bottle of poison on his dining table that did him in.

Weird, right? Now…wanna help me char these hides?

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Skeevers provide a fascinating contradiction. They are regarded as little more than pests and are not considered dangerous, but the diseases they spread kill just as many as bear attacks. From an alchemical standpoint, the tails we use have nearly all poisonous effects, but once the purifying heat of fire is applied, all these negative attributes are converted into entirely positive ones!

Suffice it to say, I deal far more frequently with the charred hides. Take the nasty pelts your hired help has skinned from the creatures, missing half the hair on them no doubt from the disease they carry, and lay them across a rack over a medium fire, flipping them occasionally. The remaining hair will be the first thing to go, rendering it smooth. Then, the hide will turn a golden brown and begin to crackle. Amazing how much more appetizing that sounds! Just be careful not to burn it to a charred black crisp, as you will have destroyed any alchemical properties at that point. Once prepared, the charred skeever hide achieves its greatest purpose: a reagent for cure disease potions. Quite ironic considering the nature of the beast it comes from… Very few other ingredients offer this benefit, making it quite the valuable item despite its humble origins. The absolute best thing you can do is mix it with mudcrab chitin; the end result will not only cure your disease, but restore stamina and help you resist poisons all at once! This is the perfect combination for any adventurer, so you may even want to gift one to your hired help as a token of gratitude (especially if they picked up Ataxia when dealing with the vermin)…

As for the tails, there is nothing special to do. It is possible to use them for fortifying light armor when prepared with just the right ingredients, but essentially the corrupted flesh is only good for poisoning your enemy. Use it before it stinks up your shop and be done with it.


	5. Chaurus Eggs & Chaurus Hunter Antennae

Nope, don’t say anything, not one word. I look like a disaster, and I can assure you, I feel like a disaster. That entire trip was a disaster! I’ve seen a lot in my travels that belong in nightmares, but what I just endured would be an entire banquet for Namira, no exaggeration.

You know how I was doing some missions up north in the tundra? We were caught in a snowstorm between Dawnstar and Winterhold, and the lighthouse that materialized in the blizzard seemed like a miracle at the time. Believe me, that didn’t last long. We let ourselves in, found the place deserted, and then found the first body. I will not provide all the details of what else we found that night because I’d rather spare you the trauma. Suffice it to say, there was a lot of death.

What matters is that we were not going to be staying in that lighthouse overnight until we cleared out the threat that was coming in through the basement: chaurus. That turned into a maze of tunnels under the ice, deeper and deeper into the earth. There were some Falmer, which by itself would be one of the worse things to find, but the more constant danger was those chaurus everywhere! The eggs, sweet Arkay so many eggs all along the tunnel walls, clumped together in blobs. I can’t even imagine if they all hatched! I did my best to gather up as many as I could without slowing us down too much, if not for your alchemy, then to prevent them from turning into those disgusting bugs.

In the final cavern, there was of course the leader. Chaurus are pesky, and when they gang up on you, spitting their poison and damaging your armor, they can easily kill you. Chaurus Hunters are on a whole different level. They have endured a period in which they remain in a coma, protected by a shell of resin, then they pop out ten times stronger. Sharper claws, move faster, plus wings! Guess who was waiting at the end? Yeah, exactly. Even with Lydia it was a rough fight, and who knows how much worse it would have been if I hadn’t figured out that my fire breath could do a bit more damage and hold it at a distance while disintegrating the poison. We completely dismantled that monster as soon as we killed it, grabbing the chitin for weapon smithing, the antennae for potions, and the meat around the thorax for some chaurus pie. We also discovered the remains of the lighthouse’s owner in there…

So, on that note, take it all, the eggs, the antennae, everything except the chitin. I don’t want to see anything related to a chaurus for a long, long time. The only exception I will make is if you take that meat and make me the pie… Hey, don’t look so grossed out, Nils over at Candlehearth has a great recipe, and you are a master cook!

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Chaurus eggs and chaurus hunter antennae are some of the hardest ingredients to come by. With the eggs, though, it has nothing to do with scarcity; it has everything to do with no one wanting to venture into a chaurus nest, which tend to be found deep within Dwemer ruins and Falmer-infested caves. Why, in Fjori’s tale accompanying this chapter, she had managed to gather over a hundred eggs, and she wasn’t even being thorough! Even more spectacular is that it only takes one tiny egg to create a fully potent potion.

Much like the creatures they turn into, the eggs’ primary trait is to cause increased damage from poison. However, the best use for a chaurus egg in alchemy is to mix it with nirnroot, vampire dust, or ice wraith teeth (all rare ingredients in their own right, unfortunately) to create a potion of invisibility. If you don’t have these second ingredients, luna moth wings will also do the job, though the resulting brew will also have the secondary effect of damaging your magicka. If you are not a mage, this shouldn’t be too much of a sacrifice. As for the antennae, they have identical properties to morpho butterfly wings. Unless you happen to kill a chaurus hunter per happenstance, just use this much safer, much more common option.

Because you will likely receive more eggs than you know what to do with in one go, make sure to prepare a cold place to store them. The cold will help preserve the qualities of the eggs until you have need of them next. You never know how long it will be until the next adventurer comes to you with a stock of these gems.


	6. Daedra Heart

So, hey, I just wanted to double check with you. This daedra heart, it doesn’t have any super amazing properties that make it more useful for alchemy than smithing, does it? I’d be mad if I used it to work on some Daedric armor and then found out it could have made me invincible for 30 seconds or something. …No, shockingly, I didn’t kill anything this time, I just found it on the body of a necromancer. That’s not to say I haven’t taken on a demora before.

Thing is, I don’t deal with many dremora or their like. I’m a good Nord that keeps away from magic and Daedric princes, so, you know, I don’t get tangled up with realm-traveling monsters. I mean honestly, just look at history and tell me what good ever came from trying to work with or manipulate the daedra. I’ve also cleaned up my fair share of messes that were the results of people playing around with conjuration; half the time they end up killed by their own summon. Ninety percent of the time I come to possess a daedra heart, it is because I stole it from dead people.

The one time I actually met a dremora, I didn’t even really know what it was. It looked like a really tall person, but with black and red skin that I mistook for face paint at first. The small horns were a bit of a give-away. He was in the middle of Shalidor’s Maze for some reason, perhaps a trick that old mage jerk left behind to mess with people who just wanted to learn a new shout from the word wall.... Other than being a bit stronger and faster than a human, you kill them the same, no tricks. Believe me, I was far more interested in the valuable enchanted circlet he had on than his heart, but I harvested it anyway, seeing as a blacksmith over in Markarth was looking for one.

So, yeah, sorry, I don’t have a good story about this. Kind of strange, isn’t it? I almost feel disappointed in myself! Anyway, can I keep the heart for that armor? There is a full moon tomorrow night and that would be the best time to smith myself that new chest plate...

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Ever since the Oblivion Crisis hit my homeland, there has been a backlash against the summoning of daedra, even lesser ones. Combine that with the fact that this ingredient does not exist in this realm, and you understand why the going rate for a single daedra heart is well over 200 septims. The question is, is this hard-to-come-by ingredient really worth paying that much for if you are a practical alchemist?

I would lean towards ‘no’. Fjori seems to have the right of it, latching onto the importance of this item in forging some of the most powerful armor known to man or mer (I’ve been told the blood aids in cooling the ebony a certain way that cannot be matched through any other means). In alchemy, it does nothing that more common ingredients can’t. It’s most important property, fear, can be obtained from a nice walk along the streams of most provinces, where blue dartwings and Cyrodilic Spadetails are plentiful. Several combinations with the daedra heart will yield both positive and negative effects, which frustrates anyone trying to brew a useful potion. A best case scenario should you have no other use for the daedra heart would be to mix it with Namira’s Rot. Then, you could add injury to insult, draining a mage’s magic as you send them fleeing.

Then again, maybe you work in a place where the people think running away is dishonorable and they won’t even want to buy your fear potion. I have found this to be an interesting phenomena here in Skyrim…

Bottom line, you might keep the daedra heart as an exotic collectable, use it for forging armor, or sell it for a tidy sum to someone who will. While you decide what to do with it, keep it sealed in an air-tight container.


	7. Dwarven Oil

By the Nine, you wouldn’t believe the sights we saw down there! An entire city underground, lit by luminescent mushrooms, with plazas and lecture halls, libraries and dining halls, and anything else you could imagine. All of it was carved out of stone or forged from that dwarven metal. Still, I can see why more people don’t go exploring in Dwemer ruins; the traps and automatons would put a quick end to any lesser adventurer, and don’t even get me started on the Falmer... Perhaps that is why there was so much untouched the deeper we went.

I brought you a couple trinkets, which very few people will be able to brag about owning. Even better, I brought you an interesting ingredient for your studies. See this bottle of oil? I didn’t expect it to be useful for alchemy, I thought it was just necessary for the workings of the automatons. Then we ran into an alchemy lab where several of these bottles were lying around. I thought to myself, why would they be here if they weren’t useful? From then on, I collected as much of it as I could from each defeated machine, taking the time to patiently unscrew the oil reserve apparatus where it was stored. Better still, in their giant production facilities, there were bottles lining the shelves just waiting to be grabbed. There was no shortage, and even with my random, spontaneous experiments I was able to figure out most of its properties with plenty left over for you. 

I can’t promise I’ll be bringing you a ready supply; unless there is a very good reason to do so, I’d rather not venture into more Dwemer ruins. It’s hard to explain, but they are different than the Nordic tombs I’m used to, more artificial. I’d much rather do honorable battle with the spirits of my ancestors to earn their blessing than roam halls where nothing is actually alive. Plus, all those steam noises give me the creeps, make it hard to hear enemies coming. You telling me you need more would be one of the few exceptions I could imagine. Now that I’ve mastered the art of freezing their steam-powered mechanisms with my frost breath and ‘dismantling’ them with my axe, I suppose the experience is tolerable.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Dwemer oil is essentially the mechanical mirror of a taproot; both are the life-force of the creature they serve, but one is comprised of purely natural magic while the other is for artificial life. That being said, it is a toss-up in regards to which would be easier to obtain for your potions (we will address the challenges of Spriggans later in this book). If you are headed for some Dwemer ruins, you may as well make the most of it and gather up as much as possible. Divines know you will be killing plenty of animunculi in the process.

When used properly, dwarven oil is a mage’s best friend. All of the oil’s properties deal with magic, which could explain the lightning produced by these scuttling terrors. You could mix the oil with a taproot and gain three magic-fortifying effects, though at the cost of a weakness to incoming magic. A more conservative bet would be to mix it with Mora Tapinella for heightened illusion as well as restored magicka, or Moon Sugar for restored magicka with increased magicka regeneration. Almost anything else you do will leave you weak to incoming magic, so be careful.

Another reason you or your hired help should gather as much as possible while on a trip to Dwemer ruins is that the oil does not lose any potency over time. How this is accomplished, no one but the Dwemer know, as with so many other things. There is no denying, however, that the stuff has been sitting around for countless centuries and is still going strong. Seeing as it only takes about three ounces per potion, a good haul could last you several years.

Whatever you do, though, don’t use this mysterious lifeblood to grease your door hinges; that would be an insult to the Dwemer who fabricated such a marvelous mixture.


	8. Ectoplasm

Yes, I know what you are going to say: Fjori, I thought you were all about respecting dead people, so why do you have a bunch of ectoplasm spread out on my counter? That would be a fair question, seeing as I refuse to use human bonemeal, and believe me, on a normal day I would have let that ectoplasm sit there undisturbed, letting it dissipate back into the beyond or whatever the heck it does after you rekill the ghost. Trust me when I say that these guys had it coming.

I’ve seen my fair share of ghosts. Many of them were benevolent, trapped here in this world for one reason or another but not lashing out at the living. Some even helped to guide me. A few ghosts fought me because they were compelled to by a conjurer, or simply for the sake of honorable combat to prove my worth. The ghosts at Forelhost were none of these things. They were trying to kill me as if I were the very enemy they died trying to defend their fortress from back at the start of recorded history. It was a dragon cult, I tell you, and they were desperate men and women, forced into hiding and then surrounded. I can’t blame them for that. The actions they took to their own people, however…they haunt me.

I saw graves for children. Miniature corpses. I have NEVER, in all my years of exploring crypts, seen such a thing. They left letters, still legible after all these centuries, detailing the way they killed their own children, and poisoned each other just so that their enemies would not kill them by their own hands. They can justify that all they want, but I cannot see this act of taking away any possible hope as anything but deplorable. I slashed up their fluid yet tangible forms until they were piles of ectoplasm on the floor, and by the Nine, I don’t even feel bad using those glowing remnants for experiments.

…Oh. That wasn’t what you were going to say? Forget I said anything then.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Ectoplasm is a funny thing. We can fully explain how to use it in alchemy, but we still have no idea where it comes from. For one thing, not all ghosts produce ectoplasm. Does it depend on how long the ghost was manifested here on Mundus? Does it have to do with the ghost’s nature? Perhaps it even had something to do with the person’s magical capabilities in life. In our best estimation, this residue is spiritual energy that has been trapped in a miasma, which grows denser as time goes by, but more studies must be done for this hypothesis to hold conclusive.

Regardless of origin, its properties are clear. Unless you have a briar heart (see earlier chapter), you will not get multiple positive properties from it. Its nagging tendency to damage health interferes with its magical-boosting abilities if you try to link effects. The best way to use ectoplasm if you are the sort with no qualms about using spiritual remains is to mix it with beehive husk or anything glowing to fortify destruction magic.

It is my understanding that ectoplasm can also be used for the refining of certain other-worldly weapons. In alchemy, it is imperative to use the ectoplasm quickly, as it dissipates gradually over time; within as little as a week you could lose all of it back to Aetherius no matter how you try to contain it. In contrast, when used at the forge, something about the heat and the binding of the ectoplasm to metals actually traps it to the blade.

Remember, if you or your hired help find yourselves in a room full of killed-again ghosts that left ectoplasm behind and deserved to have their remains donated to science, please collect it. We have much to learn about it and very few samples to research.


	9. Eye of Sabre Cat & Sabre Cat Teeth

We should play a game of “guess where I was traveling recently based on animal parts I’m carrying in large quantities”. With this one, I’ll even give you two hints: here are the eyeballs, and here are the teeth. 

…Correct! These are the remains of Skyrim’s greatest predator. Huge curved canines for ripping flesh from bone are a dead give-away. The Plains of Whiterun look innocent as they stretch out as far as the eye can see, but the grasslands are just teeming with sabrecats hiding blow the level of the dry plants. They blend in with the grass, stalking low to the ground, so invisible the Thieves’ Guild would be envious. Worst of all is the lie that you’ll be safe if you just stay on the roads. These beasts will go after any easy target, deer or merchant alike.

Back when I started the whole mercenary thing, these great cats were the stuff of my nightmares. I wasn’t too strong at the time, and traveled alone through their habitat often. Heavy armor and a shield saved my life from their powerful jaws and heavy swipes on more than one occasion, but there’s really no running from them. Wolves need to work in packs to take down prey, but a sabre cat only needs itself, and it will chase you faster than you can run. Striking blindly will get you nowhere either. I learned real quick that you can’t waste your blows to areas where their fur is thick and their muscles tough; go for the face, blind them, and then run once they are too incapacitated to follow.

Now of course I can stand against them without having to flee. Having Lydia helps, of course, but so does experience and better gear. All these eyes and teeth from one trip out to Skyhaven temple, and I never needed more than a minor healing potion for each encounter. If the sabre cats had any brains at all, they’d go back to picking on deer and merchants. But, you know, we don’t want the merchants to die, so just the deer.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

We discussed in earlier chapters that the alchemical potential in a bear rests in the claws, while with other creatures it manifests in other areas. For whatever reason, the sabre cat provides not just one, but two sources of alchemical potential, and though they share the property of restoring stamina, they are not identical.

Let’s start with the eyes. A sabre cat eye is obvious due to its darkened sclera. The astute alchemist long ago noted that it may not be coincidence that the only type of eye to have alchemical potential is also the only type of eye with this trait. Of course, it is all conjecture at this point, and proving it would matter very little. We are practical people, and we know what we can do with them. Your customers are likewise practical, and will appreciate the ways the eyes can be brewed for potions restoring health or stamina. Even better, mix the sabre cat eye with charred skeever hide and restore both at the same time. One eye is enough to do the job, so you’ll get two for the price of one. Just be sure to let the eyeball dry out if you won’t be using it right away; moist conditions lead to rot, and the moisture is not necessary for a successful potion.

Not all sabre cat teeth are created equal, and despite the fact that only one tooth is needed per potion, only the two large fangs have any value. Like the eye, there are theories as to why the prominent canines carry the potential, but they matter very little. What matters most are the two very rare fortifications the ground-up teeth can offer. The first is for warriors like Fjori, who will rely on their heavy armor to endure an assault by this predator. The second is for the town blacksmiths, whose ability at their forges will be enhanced for a few moments of clarity. Unless you need an emergency stamina potion, able to be created from mixing both parts of the animal, use the teeth for these much more lucrative purposes.

It would seem that not all predators are created equal, and if you or your hired help manage to kill these deadly foes, you are doubly rewarded. Just remember, despite the physical differences between the regular and snowy sabre cats (or even the newly discovered Vale sabre cat), there are no alchemical differences to be found.


	10. Falmer Ears

Now that the whole ruckus with the dragons is over and we’ve put Ulfric in his place, it’s high time they do something about the overabundance of Falmer. I mean, I don’t care if they live in those Dwemer ruins; if they kill explorers, that’s the explorers’ own fault for taking the risk. However, they are getting bolder as we were all distracted by other events. Sightings in Whiterun near Shimmermist Cave. Capturing an Argonian miner near Darkwater Pass. Kidnapping and murdering that family at the lighthouse. People are endangered by them coming to the surface more frequently than ever.

I mean, you know where I got all these Falmer ears? There was a whole cave-full of Falmer at Chillwind Depths, right along a major trade route between Whiterun and Haafingar. I found the remnants of a camp, where they were investigating the disappearance of entire caravans traveling that expanse of road. What do you think happened? Falmer ambush! I mean, these people had armed guards and everything! You don’t want to know the fate of their victims, believe me. I saw the remnants with my own eyes…

I think the problem is that people underestimate them. They say all the time that they are just devolved Snow Elves, no better than beasts. Well, when was the last time you fought a beast that forged its own weapons out of chitin from the chaurus it domesticated? Has a beast ever launched a coordinated assault, using magic and pinpoint archery thanks to an acute sense of hearing? Did the beast ever craft poisons it was not naturally granted to make it even more deadly? The Falmer ride the fine line between monster and thinking being, and perhaps that makes them the most deadly adversary of all.

I don’t usually go diving into their lairs, but I’ve figured out a solid plan for dealing with those that have threatened people. You can’t get in close; their weapons are coated in poison and they will hear you even if they can’t see you. Stealth archery is the best way to go, provided you have the option of stealth. If they bring the fight to you, rely on your shield to deflect their weapons and knock them off balance.

Do you think that if I rallied a group of locals and prepared them for the combat they would face, we could rout a few of the nests in each hold? That might just be my next project… Those things creep me out!

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sometimes an ingredient brings up a moral debate. Any student of alchemy at a sanctioned university recognizes that human substances are out of the question even though we know thanks to less morally-stringent practitioners that human hearts and flesh have alchemical potential. So, are there other living creatures that blur the line between human and beast? The Falmer are a textbook example. Their ears, which, presumably like the rest of their body, offer resistance to the very poison they dispense, could be confused for the ears of any other Mer. Explorers like Fjori have noted patterns that demonstrate a crude civilization, including domestication, item crafting, rituals, and communal living. Why then is it acceptable practice to harvest their ears, but not the ears of an Altmer bandit?

I am an alchemist, not an anthropologist, but based on my experience, I’d have to say local perception dictates the acceptability of an ingredient. Here in Skyrim, the Nords have seen the Falmer as a menace, a lower life-form. I’d wager it all started with their Snow-Elf ancestors sacking Saarthal, and the grudge evolved as the Snow-Elves devolved. The point is, what the Nords find to be perfectly appropriate may not be so in other regions of Tamriel, or even among other ethnic groups. Make sure you pay attention to this when deciding to take on such a controversial ingredient.

Operating under the assumption that Falmer are more beast than cognitive being, given my time surrounded by the Nords, I can tell you that the ears make for good poisons, damaging health and putting the victim in a state of frenzy when paired with troll fat. A less macabre use would be, as aforementioned, a component of a resist poison potion. Should you have a legitimate reason to be picking locks (locked yourself out of the shop again?), mix them with spider eggs or Namira’s rot to fortify your lockpicking skills. Use the ears right away unless you plan on freezing them solid, because rotting flesh is not a pleasant aroma for your workspace.

I’ll freely admit, this one pushed my boundaries as an alchemist. Do as you see fit.


	11. Fire, Frost & Void Salts

If I’m looking particularly charred this time around, it’s not because of a dragon. Or a campfire accident. Try Flame Atronach in the hands of rabid pyromancers.

I swear, the things people conjure from Oblivion! Why would anyone want to bring giant monsters of fire, ice, or lightning into the room with them? Mages are crazy, and no, I will not apologize for that sentiment. I mean, what if they go rogue and kill their summoner? We’ve seen it happen before!

Oh, right, the story. Just my luck, I was pointed to a word wall within Sunderstone Gorge, a haven for some very twisted mages. I mean, it’s one thing to summon something if you are in danger, or to train your destruction magic so you can master it, but they were violent, and didn’t exactly take “Please may I come in” kindly. Don’t look at me like that, I promise I asked very nicely at the front door! All of them hostile, it was a tough fight to make it through their stronghold. Only resist fire potions and patient sniping kept me alive through the gauntlet.

The worst was the main ritual chamber, because what else would you expect? It was an epic battle between their ranged attacks, including those of the summoned flame atronach, and my axe. There’s no choice for a warrior in this situation but to charge ahead and close the distance. The worst of it is, I’m ashamed to say I relied on magic-draining poisons to disable the conjurers while I dealt with the atronach and Lydia kept them pinned down with arrow fire. The kicker was that flame atronachs explode when they run out of health. I nearly died, no exaggeration!

Several healing potions later, we finally ended the battle and got to survey the room. Charred corpses, being experimented on and tortured from the looks of it. Sadistic fiends deserved their fate.

I must say, they had a wonderful collection of alchemical ingredients, including countless fire salts. I’m saving them for a client, though. Can’t tell you what he plans on doing with them; sworn to secrecy for this particular fetch quest. Once I’ve gotten enough for him, I’ll bring some back for you. Aedra know I’ll be fighting some atronachs again sooner or later.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

While nowhere near as pricey as daedra hearts, these three ingredients are right up there as some of the costliest, both in terms of monetary value and in danger of retrieval. It is considerably more acceptable to conjure atronachs, the source of these salts, than daedra, and so you will not find the same shortage. However, these salts are not all worth the same. Fire salts are the cheapest and easiest to obtain, followed by frost and void in that order. The reason for this is the skill needed by the conjurer to summon the appropriate atronachs; flame atronachs are one of the first summons a conjurer will learn, while storm atronachs are the most difficult to master.

But what are these elemental salts? We know that atronachs whose summon time expires do not leave them behind when they return back to Oblivion. Only when killed do they drop the powder, hinting that it is essentially their corporeal form in Mundus that has disintegrated, leaving behind the remnants.

Fire and frost salts share many similarities. Both offer resistances to their element and weakness to their opposing element. Both also restore magicka. Fire salts end up being easiest to work with, as it is a simple matter to brew concoctions from them that both regenerate and restore magicka. Frost salts, in contrast, can only be linked with Moon Sugar, and even then the resulting brew would only be useful in a duel against a pure ice mage.

Void salts are a whole different thing altogether. Perhaps because they have no opposing element, they only provide weaknesses to shock, despite coming from lightning-producing beings. They also damage health in many reactions, making them a difficult item to work with for beneficial means. Strange as it sounds, the humble tundra cotton will be your best pairing, offering resistance to magic in general as well as fortifying the drinker’s magicka.

I understand that the denizens of Tamriel have developed many other uses for the ingredients, including smithing. While you decide how best to use your salts, you won’t have to worry about disappearing; the remnant of the atronach’s body is tied here in Mundus, not in Oblivion, so there is no danger of your ingredient disappearing gradually.


End file.
